


barefoot busy til the sun sneaks back up

by helsinkibaby



Category: CSI: Miami
Genre: F/M, Het, Romance, case fic of a sort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-03-23 15:11:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13790358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helsinkibaby/pseuds/helsinkibaby
Summary: When a case threatens to go south, Calleigh and Speed have to pull an all nighter.





	barefoot busy til the sun sneaks back up

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written waaaaay back in the day, I started to finish this for the WIP Challenge but didn't get it finished in time thanks to the Winter Olympics wrecking my sleep schedule. Turns out it fits, after a fashion, for the Case Fic square of a Bingo Card at 1 Million Words. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

_Miami Dade Crime Lab, 9.05pm_

"What?!"

The voice was Southern, irate, accompanied by the slamming of the lab door, and Tim Speedle didn't even look up from his microscope, concentrating on bringing his fibre sample into sharp focus. "And hello to you too, Calleigh," he said calmly, listening as her footsteps clip-clopped over to the coat-stand in the corner, no doubt getting herself a lab coat. "How are you this fine evening?"

"Don't give me any of that chat," she told him firmly, her voice exasperated. "You paged me to come in, said it was urgent. What is it?"

"Another victim." Tim still didn't look up, concentrating on the sample now that it was finally visible, thinking that it was a close enough match to one from the last case, certainly close enough to warrant a side by side comparison, if he could just find the first sample in this wealth of evidence. Better to put it aside for later he decided, as he heard Calleigh mutter an oath under her breath. 

"Son of a bitch." That kind of language had him blinking in surprise, though he didn't look at her, selecting another sample and sliding it under the microscope. 

"You've been hanging around Alexx too much," he told her, because it was the coroner who usually expressed an opinion like that, not the genteel Southern Belle. 

"You were thinking it too," she pointed out, and he had to give her that. "Same M.O?"

"Yep, and the victim fits the profile," Speed confirmed. "The press are gonna be all over this, so H got clearance to get as many of our people as possible on the case. Hence we all got called in."

"Great," she muttered, her tone of voice clearly indicating that it was anything but. "What've you got for me?"

"Well, I started with the fibre analysis," he told her, deciding that the latest one was no good to them, going back to the one he'd had a minute ago. "Trying to see if we can get a match to any of the other scenes." Locating the sample, he put it back under the scope. "Sheets are over there, full of DNA. Left that for you."

"You're so good to me," she muttered sarcastically, and he finally lifted his head. 

"Take a look at this," he invited. "See if you think it's a match to anything." 

He had to step away from the bench, turn to look at her, and when he did, his eyebrows flew upward. "Wow," he said, eyeing her up and down. She'd done something with her hair, curling it so that it fell in soft layers around her face, down her back, and even as he looked at her she was pulling it back into a messy ponytail. Tiny stones dangled from her ears, catching the light in a distinctly non-regulation way, and her make-up was more striking than he was used to, eyes and lips a little darker, a little more pronounced. His eyes travelled down her body, the lab coat all buttoned up and impeding much of his view, but he could see from the knees down, could see the shiny crimson material swishing around her legs as she moved, was pretty sure that he could make out a slit going up the left hand side, vanishing underneath her coat. Her shoes, like her earrings, were distinctly non-work wear, the same colour as her dress, strappy, with heels like pencils, making him wonder how she could even walk on them. She smirked as she moved past him, obviously knowing the effect that she was having on him, and he would have given anything for her to take off that damn lab coat so that he could get the full effect "We obviously interrupted your plans for the evening," he surmised, and she chuckled dryly as she leaned into the microscope.

"I had a date," was all she said, but his mind had moved on to other things, and he sniffed the air curiously.

"Is that Chanel?" he asked.

"Number 5," she confirmed.

He raised an eyebrow, because she never usually wore perfume around the Crime Lab; none of the women did, any more than the men wore cologne, because it interfered with the smells at a crime scene. "Must've been some date," he murmured, not expecting a response, but hearing a small snicker. 

"It could've been." She adjusted the resolution on the microscope, peering into it intently, and he stepped closer to her, how close he didn't realise until she straightened up, turning to look at him, her eyes widening in surprise when she realised just how close he was to her. To her credit, she recovered quickly. "Looks like it could be a match to the ones from the other crime scenes," she said, and he nodded, not moving an inch. 

"That's what I thought. I'm gonna go through the rest of them, see if there's anything else before I check them."

She wasn't moving either, though it looked very much to him like a slight tinge of red was making its way up her neck to her cheeks. "You should do that."

"And you should swab the sheets."

"Right." She stayed there for just a second longer, the scent of her perfume surrounding them, intoxicating him. "The sheets."

She finally stepped away from him, reluctantly he fancied, or was he transposing his own emotions on to her? Nonetheless, she walked over to the other bench in the lab, and he watched her go, unable to take his eyes off her. 

*  
__  
Miami-Dade Crime Lab, 10.12pm  
  
"Calleigh Duquesne, you didn't have to dress up for me."

Tim glanced over at Calleigh as they entered the autopsy bay, saw her roll her eyes at Alexx's comment. "I just didn't think we made enough of an effort for you Alexx," she told the other woman. "Thought I'd do something about it."

"And don't think I don't appreciate it honey," Alexx said, the body on the table in front of her not attracting anywhere near her full attention as she looked Calleigh up and down, just as Speedle had done. "Don't suppose there's any chance of you losing that lab coat and letting me get an eyeful of that dress?"

She must have been reading Tim's mind, but Calleigh shook her head with a smile, affecting an exaggerated shiver. "It's a little cold down here," she pointed out, and Tim had to admit that she had a point. 

"I'll find you later," Alexx said, eyes still on what she could see of the dress. "Just confirm for me - it is a Vera Wang?"

"Yes," Calleigh replied, eliciting a low whistle from the coroner. "And when you see me living on bread and water for the rest of the month, you'll now know why." 

"But worth every penny for the look on Doctor Dreamboat's face, am I right?" There was a knowing gleam in Alexx's eyes, and Tim turned the full measure of his stare on Calleigh, this the first he'd heard of her date for the evening, and he wondered just what she'd told Alexx about him. 

"It was," Calleigh admitted, shifting on her feet, tucking a non-existent strand of hair behind one ear. She didn't look comfortable under the spotlight, or maybe the reason for her discomfort became clear with her next words. "But that was nothing compared to the look on his face when I told him I had to come into work."

"Ah." Alexx winced. "Not impressed?"

"Put it this way, I don't think I'll be hearing from him any time soon," Calleigh answered, stepping closer to the autopsy table, looking down at the woman's body there. "So make this worth my while Alexx - what have you got for us?"

"Victim is Rachel Mayor, twenty five…and the most I can tell you is what you probably already know. Cause of death, strangulation, marks on her neck consistent with some form of rope, just like the others. Arms and legs were tied up, again, like the others, so there's bruising…more than we've seen previous…you tried to fight him off, didn't you honey?"

From his stance at the foot of the table, Tim could see the bruising she was referring to, but he could also see the marks around the woman's face, in particular the livid bruise around one eye. "Young woman, living alone, fitting the profile… she knew what was going to happen to her." He spoke the thought out loud, regretting it when he saw a shudder travel the length of Calleigh's body. This was the fifth victim that they'd had, fitting the same M.O, in the same area of the city, and everyone was getting jittery over it, hence the willingness of the powers that be to authorise as much overtime as necessary to process the scene. The press were all over this one, and were beginning to ask why the police weren't doing more to catch the guy. Fact of the matter was, as all the Crime Lab knew, they were doing all they could. 

It just wasn't enough. Yet. 

Alexx simply nodded at his words. "She sure did…and she wasn't wrong. Bastard went through the motions, one two three. Tell you what though, she gave as good as she got - there were skin cells under her fingernails. They're ready to go to DNA. So are the vaginal swabs."

"Which will more than likely match what we've got so far, but that doesn't matter because there's no match in CODIS," Calleigh theorised. 

"We can only hope," Tim said, not blinking when the two women looked at him askance. "If it matches, we've got more evidence to bury the bastard when we do get him," he said. "If it doesn't, then we've got a copycat." That was the worst case scenario, and Calleigh closed her eyes, wincing at the bare notion. 

"You're a regular bringer of joy tonight, aren't you Speed?" Alexx observed, shaking her head. 

"You have no idea," Calleigh muttered. "Anything else?"

"Nothing of note," Alexx said. "I'll page you if I find out anything. You'll be around?"

"I'm processing bedsheets-" Calleigh all but spat out the word, glaring at Tim. "And the victim's clothes."

"Don't you get all the fun. What about you?"

"Fibres and fingerprints," Tim told her. "H and Delko are talking to the family." 

Alexx sighed. "Those poor people. You know there are times when I really hate this job."

"You and me both," Calleigh agreed, turning, the material of her dress making a soft swishing sound as she did so, drawing Tim's attention to both the skirt, and to the tantalising glimpse of what lay underneath the material. "You and me both."

With that, she was gone, Tim following after her. 

*  
__  
Miami-Dade Crime Lab, 11.32pm  
  
The first time he looked in the microscope, he thought that his eyes were playing tricks on him. So much so that he literally straightened up, blinked twice and rubbed his eyes before checking the scope one more time. When he reassured himself that he was seeing what he thought he was seeing, he glanced over at Calleigh, still processing sheets and every so often muttering curses under her breath, no doubt directed at him. "I think I've got something," he announced, not missing the spark of interest in her eyes when she looked up at him. 

"Really?" she drawled, her voice dripping with interest. "Do tell."

"See for yourself," he invited, stepping back to let her at the scope, surreptitiously inhaling a deep breath as she stood near him, her perfume still lingering on her skin, sending a shiver up his spine. "You see what I see?" he asked. 

"Enlarged medulla," she said instantly, straightening up and turning to him, her green eyes large. "It's an animal hair."

"Looks that way," Tim agreed. "Blonde, coarse…I'm thinking canine?"

"Could be," Calleigh mused, glancing into the scope again. "Our vic have any contact with animals?"

Tim had to think for a second. "Not so far as I know…" he said. "H and Delko didn't mention anything about seeing animals at the house."

"We haven't found anything like this at any of the other scenes," Calleigh reminded him, warning him to be cautious. "It could be from anywhere."

"But it might not be," Tim countered. 

"You're getting that look," were her next words, a smile spreading across her face as she stared up at him. 

"Look?" He didn't understand, tilting his head and frowning at her. 

"That little twinkle you get in your eyes when a case starts going your way. You think I don't see it, but I know it's there."

"I don't get a look," he protested, and she didn't try to convince him otherwise, just shrugged, moving away from him. 

"Have it your way then," she demurred, moving towards the other bench. "It's a shame though."

He wasn't going to ask, he promised himself. He was not. But then he did. "It is?"

"Yeah." Her eyes met his, dancing from across the room. "It's kinda cute."

She gave him a second to let that sink in before turning her gaze back to her work, and he looked at her for another long moment before picking up his cell phone to call Horatio and tell him what they'd found.

*  
__  
Miami-Dade Crime Lab, 12.23am  
  
"OK, that's it."

Speed had moved on to cross checking the fibres found at this crime scene with the fibres found at others when she spoke. He glanced up, a half-smile forming on his face. "Finished with the sheets already? That was quick."

It had been anything but, and he was tempted to duck when he saw the look she was giving him. Seeing it, he wouldn't have put it past her to throw something at him. "Shut up," she told him dryly, though, he fancied, with the slightest hint of a smile on her face. "And while I may be finished with these sheets-" As she spoke, she leaned down out of his sight. "I am also," she announced eventually. "Done with these shoes." This last was uttered almost triumphantly, and when she stood up from the stool, he couldn't help but notice that she appeared shorter than she had been a few moments ago. 

"What are you talking about?" he asked, and she gave him a sassy smile, coming around to the other side of the bench, and he realised that she'd taken off her shoes, which were now held high in her hand.

"My feet are killing me," she said, wiggling her toes up and down. "I may never walk properly again."

Tim shook his head. "I'll never understand why you women put yourself through that."

"My date was a doctor who is six foot one inch tall," Calleigh informed him. "I'm five three. You do the math. I wasn't gonna get a stiff neck from looking up at him as we danced the night away."

Tim lifted an eyebrow, doing his best not to appear rattled at the mention of her date. "There was going to be dancing?"

"Oh yes indeed. Much dancing."

"In shoes in which you could barely walk?" He looked pointedly at the heels he'd noticed when she'd first come into the lab, and from this vantage point, he could see that they were indeed pencil thin, and roughly four inches high. "How do you walk in those anyway?"

She shrugged, letting them fall to the floor. "Very carefully and with lots of practice," she told him, before adding with a shrug, "And the numbing effects of champagne are also an advantage."

"Champagne?" Tim asked, mock impressed, and Calleigh's face took on a dreamy look. 

"You should have seen the menu…" she sighed. "Bruschetta to start, followed by cream of mushroom soup. Main course of filet mignon, baby potatoes and a selection of vegetables. For dessert, either fresh fruit pavlova or chocolate fudge cake…" She sighed again, shaking her head, and Tim's mouth was watering. 

"Which are you more upset about losing?" he found himself asking. "The date or the meal?"

She shrugged. "Right now? The meal. It's not even a choice." Grabbing the evidence bags she'd filled from the bench, she headed for the door, leaving her shoes behind her. "I'll get these to Laura."

He watched her go, wishing once again that she'd remove that lab coat, or that she'd at least take her hair down from the ponytail. He waited until she was well gone, counting to ten just to make sure, before once more reaching for his cell phone. 

*  
__  
Miami-Dade Crime Lab, 1.36am  
  
She'd moved on from bed sheets, clothes and fibres and was busy twirling the fingerprint brush in a tub of black powder, eyes narrowed in concentration. He waited until she'd put the evidence, a glass from the bedside table, back down on the bench before he called her name, and when she jumped, he was glad that he had. "Are you trying to freak me out?" she demanded, and he shrugged one shoulder as he leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest. 

"I'm trying to do you a favour," he told her, and she lifted an eyebrow in surprise. 

"You're gonna tell me I can go home?" There was no hope whatsoever in her voice, and he didn't feel a bit guilty about shaking his head. 

"Nope," he said flatly. "However, I do have a pizza for us in the break room."

He nearly would have said that someone had turned on an extra light switch in the room, so bright was the smile that spread across her face. "Speed, I take it all back," she murmured, pausing only to put the glass back in the evidence bag. "You are my knight in shining armour." 

He looked down at his baggy jeans and oversized shirt that had definitely seen better days, and he chuckled. "You definitely need food," he told her. 

"No argument here," she sighed, falling quietly into step beside him, and a glance down at her told him that she was still shoeless. "What kind of pizza did you get?"

"Ham and pineapple, with extra cheese," he told her, holding the break room door open for her, letting her go in ahead of him. His own stomach growled with hunger when the aroma of the pizza hit him, and it did something else when she looked up at him in obvious surprise. 

"You hate pineapple on pizza," she reminded him. "Fruit has no place on pizza, that's what you say."

"And I still say that." He pulled out a chair for her, motioning to her to sit down, and still eyeing him strangely, she did so. 

"Then how come-"

"Because it's your favourite," he said simply. "And since we interrupted your date with the doctor, I figured you needed the cheering up."

He was heading over to the fridge as he spoke, knowing that he wouldn't be able to say those things if he was looking at her face. He heard her opening the pizza box, heard her make a low moan of delight as she saw the food, and the sound made every drop of moisture in his mouth evaporate. "Aren't you sweet," she murmured, so softly that he wouldn't have been able to hear her were he not listening carefully, and the words, the tone in which they were uttered, didn't help him at all. 

"And while I know it's not champagne…" he said, grabbing two sodas from the back of the shelf, standing up straight and bumping the door closed with his hip, "It's gonna have to do." 

She was reaching for the can while he was still heading to the table. "It'll do just fine," she told him with a smile. 

*  
__  
Miami-Dade Crime Lab, 2.04am  
  
"Calleigh, forget about it."

"I insist!"

"Look, I ordered the pizza-"

"And I consumed more than my fair share, and I will pay for it accordingly." 

They were on their way back to the lab, the pizza having disappeared in record time, Calleigh having only remembered as she was finishing off the last slice that she hadn't given Tim any money for it. He'd declined her offer, telling her that it was on him, that he didn't mind, but she'd gone off into a rant about paying her share and how she insisted on doing so. He'd tried to tell her that a few dollars wasn't exactly going to break the bank, but she wasn't having any of it. 

"Hey," he said, trying to keep back a frustrated smile, words she'd said earlier on coming back to him. "Aren't you the one who said they'd be living on bread and water for the month after buying that dress?" He paused as she shot him a look, holding up his hands. "Not that it's not worth every penny…"

Her mouth opened and closed again, a flush of pink creeping into her cheeks. "It's not going to work," she told him eventually, after a couple of false starts. "Let me pay."

He shook his head. "You have this argument with the Doc too?" he wondered. 

"No," she answered swiftly. "He knows better." She kept on walking, but he didn't, literally stunned to a stop. When she realised that, she turned, holding out her hands in question. "What?"

"Let me get this straight…" Tim walked slowly towards her, as much thinking out loud as asking a question. "This guy calls you up, takes you someplace…and he actually lets you pay?"

She blinked, running the question through her mind, examining it from all angles as if it were a piece of evidence. "What's wrong with that?" she finally asked, growing even more confused when Tim shook his head. 

"Jerk," he muttered, lips pursed in disapproval. 

Calleigh's eyes flew open wide. "Speed, you let me pay all the time when we're all out…"

"In a group," he pointed out, his voice flat. "But you're dating the guy. It's different." He couldn't remember the last time he'd let a date of his pick up the check, no matter how much they complained, no matter what they said. He knew what she was thinking, he knew what she might say, because he'd heard it all before, and while he knew it might be old-fashioned, nonetheless, that's just the way he did things. 

"Different how?"

He shrugged. "It just is."

She narrowed her eyes, a smile on her face, the face of a woman who'd just discovered what she thought was a trump card and was preparing to play it. "But you're not letting me pay now."

He opened his mouth, shut it again, flustered by both the words and the triumphant gleam in her eye when she said them. "No," he acknowledged, "But-"

Any further comments from either of them were stopped by the arrival of Delko, who looked as tired as Tim felt. Nonetheless, his face lit up with a grin when he saw them, which turned into something approaching a leer as he looked at Calleigh. "Hey… looking good," he said, and she grinned back at him, tossing a lock of hair back over her shoulder, having let her hair loose during their meal. 

"Why thank you kind sir," she replied, batting her eyelashes at him, her smile distinctly flirtatious, for some reason leaving Tim with the strongest urge to hit Delko. Hard. 

"How's it going?" he asked, the better to distract the younger man from drooling over Calleigh. 

"Just got a call from H. He went back to the house, talked to the vic's room-mate. No dogs. Not only that, but our vic was allergic to dogs. Wouldn't have been around them, nor has the room-mate." 

Calleigh beamed as this new information sank in. "Which means," she said, "That it must have come from our killer." It was one of the first concrete leads that they'd found, and Tim felt a rush of adrenaline flow through his body. "Good work Speed."

He held his hands out modestly. "I aim to please," he quipped.

Calleigh tilted her head thoughtfully. "I wonder if he left anything else behind…" she murmured, and Tim caught her drift right away. 

"Fingerprints?" he guessed, receiving a nod in return. 

"Fingerprints," she confirmed. 

"Well, you two have fun," Delko said. "I'm going to get some food…you want anything?"

"Just ate man," Tim said. "Sorry."

Delko waved a hand dismissively. "Later," was all he said, taking a step away before looking back at Calleigh. "You sure you should be wandering around here in your bare feet?" he asked her. "Isn't it kinda dangerous?"

Tim snickered. "You should've seen the stilts she had on earlier," he said. "Now those were dangerous."

Calleigh gave him a look that stopped him talking pretty quickly, before turning a far more benevolent gaze on Delko. "Besides," she said. "I'm not in my bare feet." Both Tim and Delko's gazes were drawn there, seeing that she did indeed speak the truth, even as she continued, "I do have stockings on." 

For no reason that immediately sprang to mind, Tim's mouth went dry, every smart comment that he might have made vanishing from his mind. Delko had no such problems, smirking at the pretty blonde. "Stockings, hmm?"

"Um-hmm." She was replying to Delko, but the wink as she turned was for Tim alone, as he was sure was the comment that she tossed back over her shoulder as she moved away from them. "And not much else."

Tim blinked as the meaning hit him, turned to meet Delko's equally surprised eyes before both of them turned their attention back to Calleigh as she walked down the hall. 

"Damn," Delko muttered. 

Tim couldn't take his eyes off her disappearing figure. "Took the words right out of my mouth."

*  
__  
Miami-Dade Crime Lab, 3.29am  
  
She was bent over the bench, arms resting on the table, her head lying on her arms. Her hair, once more tied back in a loose ponytail, snaked down her back, and she looked as if she was dead to the world. He almost hated to wake her, but he knew that she'd be mortified if Horatio came into the lab and caught her asleep, and besides, they weren't quite done running fingerprints yet. If he had to suffer through this interminable night, then so did she. 

"Calleigh, wake up." He kept his voice low, placing a cup of coffee on the bench, laying a hand on her shoulder, rubbing gently until he felt her begin to stir. Even then, he didn't move his hand, not until she lifted her head to look at him, blinking at him sleepily. 

"What time is it?" she murmured, straightening up, rubbing her eyes. 

"Half past three," Tim replied, the clock on the wall blurry to his tired eyes. 

"Speed, they do not pay us enough for this," she muttered, arching her back stiffly, wincing as the muscles cracked and popped. Next she moved her head slowly from side to side, then in a small circle, wincing once again. Tim set down the other cup of coffee he was holding, doing the maths in his head. He'd left to run down to the trace lab about a half-hour ago, stopping for coffee on the way back, and she'd been wide awake when he'd left. She couldn't have been sitting like that for more than twenty-five minutes, but he knew from experience what tiredness and stiffness could do for a body; he was feeling the effects himself. 

In fact, he was so tired that his hand seemed to be acting of its own accord, because he was sure he didn't tell it to reach towards her, to place it on the back of her neck. And he certainly didn't mean to start massaging it, his fingers finding their way under the collar of her lab coat, making small but firm circles 

He half expected her to move away from him, at the very least to ask him what the hell he was doing. Truth to tell, he wasn't quite sure himself. All he knew was the warmth and softness of her skin against his; how, rather than pull away, she leaned backwards, arching into his touch. A small sigh passed her lips, and he smiled to himself before reluctantly dropping his hand and taking a step back. 

"I brought you coffee," he told her, gesturing to the steaming cup near her, and she smiled up at him, her cheeks faintly pink. 

"You gonna fight me on paying for this too?" she asked, and he rolled his eyes. 

"It's from the percolator in the break room," he reminded her. "I don't think you're gonna want to pay." 

"Point well taken, usually," came the reply. "But right now…" She inhaled the aroma first, blowing across the rim of the cup before she took a sip, sighing as she swallowed. "Perfect."

"How are those prints coming?" he asked, receiving a glare for his troubles.

"I was just starting to like you again," she informed him, and he lifted one brow in mock surprise. 

"I never knew you liked me before," he joked, and she chuckled, lifting her cup in silent salute. "So, you ever gonna tell me about your date?" Just like a second ago when his hand had worked independently of his brain, this time it was his mouth that declared autonomy, and he was torn between staying to listen to the answer and heading for the hills. 

"There's not really much to tell," she said, staring into her coffee cup. "He picked me up and we were just getting to the hotel when you called."

"Sorry." The apology was automatic, but there had been no rancour in her voice when she spoke. 

"To say that he wasn't too impressed would be to understate the matter somewhat," she continued dryly. "Not that he's been impressed with the amount of times I've cancelled on him because of this case…Miami doctors are not used to be placed second in line." Tim wanted to tell her that her dazzling doctor sounded like a class A jerk, but restrained himself. He was trying to come up with a way to make further inquiries when she surprised him by asking a question of her own. "I'm sure Pam must feel the same way sometimes?"

"Pam?"

"Pam." Her expression was neutral, not a trace of guile. "Isn't that your girlfriend's name?"

He took a deep breath, let it out slowly. "Pam and I aren't seeing one another any more," was his carefully worded answer, but she nailed him with one of her patented "don't try to fool me" looks, and he knew that she'd heard the office scuttlebutt about him and Pam. 

Her next word confirmed that. "Again?" 

He shrugged. "For good this time." 

"I'll believe that when I see it," she scoffed, laying down her coffee cup, turning her attention back to the computer and the prints running through it, obviously intending for that to be the last word on the matter. Any other time, Tim would have let it lie as well, because any other time she'd have said something like that, she would have been right. He and Pam had been on and off more times than the proverbial light switch, and it had got to the point that Delko would just roll his eyes if Tim mentioned another girl, telling him every time that he was sure that Tim would go back to Pam sooner or later. 

"This time I mean it," Tim told her, and she flicked a quick glance in his direction.

"Why?" she challenged. "She interested in someone else?"

He stared at her, his mouth once again working of its own free will, forming words that his heart had only just figured out. "Not her."

The words hung in the air for a long moment before she turned ever so slowly to look at him, green eyes meeting brown and holding. 

*  
__  
Miami-Dade Crime Lab, 4.38am  
  
"You two are still here?"

To be perfectly blunt, Tim had no idea how his eyes were still staying open, much less Calleigh's. He was so tired that he couldn't even muster up the energy to give Horatio a sarcastic reply, instead settling for a simple, "Yeah."

"I passed Delko in the hall an hour ago, he was on his way out. I thought you were both long gone." 

"We wanted to get this finished," Calleigh replied to Horatio's unspoken question of why they hadn't left at the same time as Delko, and the older man turned his full attention on her as she came around to stand beside Tim. 

Horatio looked as if he was going to say something, but then Tim noticed a change come over his face, noticed his eyes widen ever so slightly before they moved up and down Calleigh's body. Tim was getting rather used to that reaction, but it didn't mean that he liked it. "Nice dress," was all Horatio said, and Tim liked that even less. 

Calleigh smiled, tossing her ponytail back over her shoulder. "I know." 

It was a typically Calleigh remark, said with trademark Calleigh smile and lowered eyes, and Tim found himself smiling at it. So too did Horatio, who continued, "Delko told me about the canine hair, good work. You two should head home, get some rest. We've still got a long day ahead of us."

Calleigh groaned. "It's already been a long day," she pointed out, and Horatio inclined his head as if in agreement. 

"Hence my point," he said, turning on his heel and heading for the exit. "Home, both of you." 

Used to having the last word, he didn't wait around for arguments, leaving Tim and Calleigh looking at one another. "Well," Tim said eventually. "He's not gonna have to tell me twice."

"Got that right," Calleigh agreed, one hand already reaching up to undo the buttons of her lab coat, getting ready to walk over to the stand so that she could hang it up. Tim watched her move, not taking his eyes off her, because what was underneath that coat had occupied a small but significant portion of his brain all night long, and he wasn't about to miss seeing it. 

He wasn't disappointed. 

The front of the dress, he discovered, wasn't low cut at all, the neckline of the dress just skimming below her collarbone. It was sleeveless however, with only two thin little straps on either shoulder to hold it up, and when she turned her back to him, any coherent though that he might have had went right out of his head. While the dress may have looked demure from the front, from the back it was a different story, due to the complete lack of material there, the skirt only beginning from the small of her back. From across the lab, the expanse of skin on view looked creamy and smooth, and he remembered the feel of the skin of her neck underneath his fingers, could only imagine how the skin of her back would feel. 

He was still imagining that when she turned back to him, lab coat all hung up neatly, and if she objected to him staring at her, then her smile wouldn't have told him so. "See something you like?" she asked, eyes gleaming in the low light, and he just shook his head, still at a loss for words. 

"Wow," was the most he could manage, and she dipped her head, flattered. 

"You like?" Her hands were clasped behind her back, head dipped down low, the very picture of innocence, her eyes promising anything but. 

"That," he decided. "Is one hell of a dress." 

"That's why I chose it," she told him dryly, moving away, breaking the spell. "Not that I'm gonna get a chance to wear it again any time soon." He couldn't help but notice that she didn't sound too broken-hearted at the prospect. "Question. What are my chances of getting a cab at this hour of the morning?"

At nearly five in the morning, he knew that it could go either way, but he didn't answer that, instead frowning. "You need to get a cab?"

"I was out, remember? My car's at home, I had to get a cab here from the hotel."

"Sign out a car," Tim suggested. "You know H'll sign off on it. He's the one who told me to get you in here." 

She reached down, holding up the shoes that she'd banished earlier on that night. "Me, drive? In these heels?"

"Good point…you're bad enough." Her mouth opened in shock at his words, and he moved quickly before she could say anything else. "I'll take you home."

She just looked at him. "That's nice of you Speed…"

"But?"

"But…your bike? In this dress?" She struck a pose to illustrate her point, one hand going to her left hip, which was thrust out slightly, serving only to accentuate the slit going high up her thigh. Tim's eyes were immediately drawn there, and once again, from the smile on Calleigh's face, he was pretty sure that that had been her intention. 

"I'll sign out a car," he told her. "It's still gonna be quicker than a cab."

She sighed, waving her hand. "I'm too tired to fight with you," she muttered. "Go sort out the car, I'll finish up here."

He nodded, pleased to have won that small victory. "I'll meet you at the front desk in what, fifteen minutes?" 

"Done." 

*  
__  
A beachfront diner, somewhere in Miami, 5.02am  
  
He wasn't quite sure how they'd ended up here, but then again, a lot of things that had happened that night were surprising to him. "Here" was a small all-night diner overlooking one of the beaches, and while they couldn't see much from their seat at a window booth, they could hear the waves crashing against the shore, smell the salt sea air. Tim had been in places like this a thousand times, in Miami, in New York, all over the US. Sometimes, he'd even been there with Calleigh. But never with Calleigh looking like that. 

He'd expected at this stage to be sacked out on his bed, alone, having dropped Calleigh at her front door, both of them eager to get some sleep after working all night. What had happened though, as sometimes did, was that he seemed to have got a second wind somewhere between Horatio telling them that they could go home and putting the evidence into the locker. When he met her at the front desk, he was feeling more alert that he'd felt all night, and from the look in her eyes, not to mention a certain spring in her step, even in the shoes she'd complained about, he knew that she was feeling the same way. 

She'd obtained a long wrap of some description, the same colour as her dress, most probably from her locker, and she'd pulled it around herself as they walked out into the parking lot, heading over to the car that Tim had signed out. "You're sure you don't mind bringing me home?" she'd asked as they walked, and he'd just given her an exasperated look out of the corner of his eye. 

"Would I have offered if I did?" he asked, fairly logically he thought, and she lifted an eyebrow in response. 

"I guess not." They'd reached the car, and his hand had been on the door handle, ready to open the door for her when she'd laid a hand on his arm, stopping him. "Hey, you hungry?"

He hadn't realised that he was until she'd mentioned the word, then his stomach had given a loud rumble, reminding him that that pizza had been a long time ago. "A little," he'd replied, and she'd grinned. 

"Since you wouldn't let me pay for the pizza, what do you say that I buy breakfast? I know a great little diner…"

She hadn't had to ask him twice, and he'd followed her directions, leading them here, and while there weren't many patrons this hour of the night, he'd noticed that those who were here had looked hard at Calleigh as she walked in, and he'd placed a hand on the small of his back as they walked to the booth, without even having to think about it, without even noticing that he was doing it. 

Calleigh noticed it though, or the attention, he wasn't sure what made her cheeks that particular shade of pink. The waitress came over and they ordered quickly, Tim pouring Calleigh a glass of water. "You ok?" he asked her, when he noticed how quiet she was, how she kept tugging at her wrap, pulling it closer around her shoulders. "You're not cold, are you?"

"No," she told him quickly, giving him an abashed grin. "No…just a little self-conscious is all." She shifted in her seat, tucking a strand of hair behind one ear. "People have been staring at me all night," she confided, and he couldn't help but chuckle. "You find that amusing?"

"C'mon, it's not that surprising," he told her, placing an emphasis on the second last word. "It's not every day we see a vision walking through the lab."

Her cheeks flamed crimson, and she ducked her head, twirling her glass intently. "Y'all are somethin' else," she said, and he knew how embarrassed she was from that simple sentence; there were very few times that her Louisiana accent was that pronounced. "Curl my hair, a nice dress and you're all a-fluster…"

"Gimme a break," he said, shaking his head. "You could wear a bin liner and you'd still be a knockout. You know that." By this stage, her cheeks were almost the same colour as her dress, and she wouldn't, maybe couldn't, look up at him. 

"You're just saying that," she murmured, still without looking at him, and he reached over, touching the back of her hand, first with one finger, then folding his hand over hers. 

"No." 

That one word had her lifting her head slowly, one agonising inch at a time, but he held steady, waiting for her eyes to meet his. He knew what he should be thinking, knew that he should be wondering if what he was doing, feeling, thinking, was a good idea. He knew all the problems that could go with starting anything with Calleigh. 

He also knew that he didn't care. 

Because tonight, for whatever reason, he'd figured out that he didn't want to be just friends with her any more, that there was more going on than that. He also had the notion that she might be feeling the same way, certainly the fact that she'd sat there as he rubbed her neck gave him cause to hope. The fact that as they were sitting there she turned her hand underneath his so that hers could grip his, added fuel to the fire, making a small smile come to his face, a smile that she returned magnified tenfold. 

*  
__  
Calleigh's apartment, 6.11am  
  
"You don't have to walk me to the door."

Calleigh pulled her wrap a little tighter around her, but this time, Tim was pretty sure that it wasn't anything to do with shyness, or being uncomfortable around him; more to do with her playing the part of the Southern belle to perfection, all downcast doe eyes and small knowing smiles. 

"And have you telling people that I'm no gentleman?" he quipped, hands deep in his trouser pockets, casting looks at her out of the corner of his eye. 

"I think that insisting on paying your share at the diner, despite the fact that it was my shout put paid to that," she told him archly, and he just shrugged, choosing not to answer the question, because the last thing he wanted to do was set her off again. They'd had a lovely breakfast at the diner up to then, holding hands and talking quietly until the waitress arrived with their order. Even then, he'd let go of her hand reluctantly, she doing the same he sensed, and they ate mostly in companionable silence, occasionally teasing one another, her trying to steal food from his plate, him letting her. 

They'd lingered over coffee, her smiling sheepishly as he reminded her that it would surely keep her up, responding that if she didn't have coffee, she'd surely go into caffeine withdrawal. He'd seen her when she'd gone without coffee, it wasn't a pretty sight, so he'd had some too, and they'd talked quietly, very little about the case and he'd almost hated to ask for the cheque, hated even more when he found himself utterly unable to let her pay the full amount, insisting on kicking in half. 

She'd been unimpressed, had told him so vociferously for the entire duration of the car ride back to her place, and he was grateful that she was so occupied. It mean that she didn't notice that for once in his life, he kept to the speed limit the entire way there, wanting the journey to last as long as possible. 

But all good things had to come to an end, and now here they were, standing at her front door, her key in the lock, and he didn't know what to do next. Which is why he just stood there, looking down at her, with her standing there, staring up at him. Maybe she didn't know what to do either. 

Except that she spoke, taking in a deep breath. "I can hardly believe we've got to be at work in a couple of hours." 

Seizing on the safe topic, Tim nodded. "Tell me about it…it's gonna be a long day."

"It's already been a long day," she told him, words that she'd already said to Horatio only a couple of hours ago, but she hadn't said them with the same smile on her face, or with her eyes dancing like that. "But it hasn't been all bad."

"No?" Tim took a step towards her, his hands settling on her hips, finding out that the material as was soft and silky as it looked, though not as soft as her skin had been. 

"No," she confirmed, her hands going to his shoulders, supporting her as she raised herself up on her toes, him bringing his head down at the same time, so that their lips met. 

He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting; maybe nothing, maybe fireworks. What it was though, was nice, completely natural, as if they were meant to be kissing one another like this. 

He really didn't want to let her go. 

But as he'd already learned, all good things had to come to an end, and they pulled away from each other, Calleigh breathing hard, Tim's heart hammering in his chest. They stood, smiling at one another, for a second before Calleigh spoke. "Want to come in?" she whispered, and while there was nothing he wanted more, he shook his head. 

Dismay flared bright in her eyes and he did his best to reassure her. "I want to," he breathed, pulling her into a hug, resting his chin against the top of her head. "It's just…"

"Too soon?" she guessed, her voice muffled against his shirt. 

"Yeah," he agreed. "That's it." 

Her arms tightened momentarily, squeezing his waist, then she stepped back, giving him a bright smile. "I guess I'll see you at work then."

"Maybe we can get dinner?" he suggested. 

She beamed. "And fight over the cheque?"

"I wouldn't have it any other way." 

She turned the key in the lock, opening the door just a crack, leaning against it, hands clasped behind her back. "Then it's a date."

"Good." He smiled at her, waiting until the door closed behind her before he moved, turning and heading back to the car. The sun was coming up, it was a whole new day, and things were looking good.


End file.
